


I’ll Eat You Up, I Love You So

by lunaraindrop



Series: October 31 Days of Queliot (and maybe other ships) Challege [5]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dracula Influence/References, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, Halloween, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Where the Wild Things Are references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 19:55:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21325774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaraindrop/pseuds/lunaraindrop
Summary: Quentin dresses up and sneaks into the PK Halloween party. He gets stuck in a closet, and then gets a trick and a treat.
Relationships: Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Series: October 31 Days of Queliot (and maybe other ships) Challege [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1504511
Comments: 3
Kudos: 63





	I’ll Eat You Up, I Love You So

**Author's Note:**

> Fleshed-out version of my Tumblr story. A part of my Oct 31 Days of Queliot (and maybe other ships challenge. Thank you to eveyone that liked and commented on the original. I hope you love this one too! To those first reading it now, I really hope you enjoy!
> 
> Comments and Kudos = Love!
> 
> The prompt word from anon was "wolf".

* * *

Who ever heard of grad students playing middle school games like 7 Minutes In Heaven at a party?

Oh, that’s right. The Physical Kids, of course. Any type of game that involved random people making out was a welcome addition to any party. You know, when there was magic, and people were drunk and high enough.

Eliot and Margo were throwing the most epic of Halloween parties.

The decorations were enhanced with magic. Glistening cobwebs stretched from ceiling corners. Vanilla scented fog gave rooms an eerie ambiance. Orange and purple spiders(fake) were enchanted to carry drinks and hors d'oeuvres to partygoers. Everything had the illusion of a medieval castle. There was even a spectacular garden maze out on the lawn.

Quentin usually hated parties…but even he was left in wonder at everything going on around him.

He originally did not plan to come that night. When Margo and Eliot tried to get him to agree to come, he was adamant on skipping out. Eliot had pouted and Margo had called him a sad sack, but they ultimately let him go.

His plan was to go off campus, pick up some egg drop soup, sneak back in, and read The World in the Walls again.

But then he saw the preparations.

…

Okay, what really did it was accidentally getting a peak at Eliot trying on his costume.

He was going as Dracula.

No, not the_ cliché_ Dracula. When would Eliot Waugh ever do something cliché, unless it was supposed to be ironic? No, he was going as the fucking hot Gary Oldman version, with the gray suit and the top hat.

Quentin felt all of his blood pooling so fast into his groin that it made him dizzy.

Eliot Waugh was always sexy…but in that suit? He was a wet dream.

He **had** to go.

When he told Margo he changed his mind, she said it was too late. Since he had so voraciously insisted that he wasn’t going to go, his invite had been rescinded.

“You shit on our hospitality, Q. Now you have to hang in your room like a loser. It was your choice. Toodles.”

But he just **had** to go! Everything looked amazing!

…

Jesus, okay! _Eliot_ was going to look amazing!

He knew he was never going to have a chance with his best friend. Quentin knew very well that Eliot was waaay out of his league and would never see him that way. He was happy to be in the friend zone as long as, you know, that zone was in Eliot’s orbit.

So, he got sneaky. Julia gave him a _Where the Wild Thing Are_ onesie for his birthday. It had a hood. Going as Max would hide his hair and face. Perfect.

It was even better that it seemed a least half a dozen people had similar ideas. As long has he stayed close to a crowd, he could blend in and secretly ogle Eliot from afar.

Well, until Eliot found some lucky bastard to take to his room.

…

That had brought down his mood. It didn’t help when he ran into Penny (Dressed as John McLane. He never wanted to hear him say “Yippee ki yay motherfucker” a him ever again). Penny had heard about Quentin being un-invited. He happily told him that he’d rat him out.

So, Quentin hid in a closet. He_ thought_ it was the kitchen entrance, but apparently the castle illusion created a bunch of hallways off of the living room. A bunch of hallways with many, many closets.

Why would you need a bunch of closets?

He got his answer.

There was a huge game of 7 Minutes in Heaven going on, and the closets were going to be used.

Except it wasn’t just seven minutes. It was _thirty_.

And he couldn’t leave, or they would see him.

He couldn’t be seen.

“Shit!”

He heard Margo introduce the game.

“Alright! This is a mass round. Everyone gets to have fun! Now, if you have a glowing green ring, put on a blindfold. Everyone with a pink ring pick a closet. When everyone is settled, greenies will draw a number. Go to the matching closet. Profit!”

Quentin heard Eliot and some other people (he thinks one was actually Alice, wtf) handing out the blindfolds.

He held his breath. Someone was going to be opening the door any second. He closed his eyes and tried his hardest to level his breathing from the panicky staccato. It didn’t work until he saw a shadow blocking the light under the door. Only then did his lungs arrest.

He was going to be found. They would yell at him for ruining the game, and then Margo would throw him out. He would be blacklisted from any other party, and maybe they wouldn’t want to be friends with a loser like him ever again.

Only…none of that happened. Someone had stepped in front of the door, but then they had walked away.

Lungs allowing airflow again, he quietly sighed with relief… only to almost have an anxiety attack.

Yes, _that_ person walked away, but there was still a game going on. This was a _partnered_ game. Even though the person that had a pink ring left, someone **else** was going to come in, and expect to make out with him.

Oh God, what if it was Margo?!

Not that he would mind making out with Margo. She was gorgeous. Unfortunately, she would also eviscerate him if she found him hiding at the party. Before the depressing scenario started playing again in his mind, he heard Eliot somewhere far off to his left.

“Okay kids, blindfolds off! Disperse to a closet. Condoms are in the bowl over there.”

Condoms?! This wasn’t just a make-out game?!

“Oh shit!” he whispered to himself.

He tried again to quiet his breathing, but just like last time he couldn’t stop hyperventilating as footsteps grew closer.

He stared in horror as the doorknob slowly turned.

Someone swiftly slipped in. Quentin didn’t have a chance to see their silhouette, but he believed they were taller than him. And maybe wearing a hat?

So…not Margo, at least. Even in stilettos she wasn’t taller than him. Plus, she was dressed as Queen Akasha from _Queen of the Damned_. Her crown was too pointy to be mistaken as a hat.

Whoever his unwitting partner was was growing closer. Too close.

Now he was having a moral dilemma. This wasn’t just a middle school make-out game like he originally thought. (He rolled his own eyes at himself. Honestly, he should have known better. This was a Physical Kids party thrown by Margo and Eliot. So…fooling around and sex were technically on the table. Anonymous fooling around and sex at that. Even though he wasn’t supposed to be at the party, his shrouded paramour consented to possibly hooking up with a preverbal stranger in a closet. Should he just…go with it? Respect their boundaries and play the game to try and throw off suspicion?

Then again, the very idea of doing more than kissing with someone when Eliot was out there made his heart hurt. Thinking about Eliot doing all this with some other guy in some other closet was making him feel sick. Both thoughts did not exactly put him in the mood.

But this person was there for some fun in a closet, and he did feel kind of bad that they got stuck with him. Quentin was so not against fun. He also _loved_ kissing. It had been a long time since he had really kissed someone, so that could be nice?

Hmm…kissing then. He would stick to kissing and try to make it as enjoyable as possible.

As he was deciding, his partner gently backed him toward the back wall. Quentin tried to shallow down his nervousness.

The crack of light from under the door illuminated just the outline of a regally arched nose and the edge of a strong cheekbone. The person before him took off their hat and pulled some kind of what he thought to be sunglasses from his eyes. Even though he couldn’t see their face, he got the sensation that they were possibly amused by him. The person touched a finger to his nose. “Well well. What do we have here? A little wolf hiding in the closet?”

Quentin froze.

They were amused, he was right. He knew that because he knew that voice so very well. It was Eliot.

Quentin gulped, feeling his Adam’s apple bob. He tried to think of something eloquent to say.

He failed. “Uh…”

Eliot chuckled darkly, like curling smoke in some jazz filled, clandestine speak-easy. “There are many wolves at this party. I’m wondering which one you are.”

Quentin was afraid to open his mouth. How well did Eliot know his voice? Would he be able to tell it was him if his voice broke in humiliation?

A familiar hand smoothed the hood from his head to rest at the back of his neck. The very same fingers that made poppers and tuts look like dancing ran through his hair. Why did that have to feel so good? Instead of letting him sink into the heady feeling of Eliot’s tender touch, Quentin renewed his resolve and locked his muscles. As much as it hurt and made him want to scream, he knew Eliot. If he thought his anonymous partner wasn’t into what he was offering, he would back off. Which meant that he would leave…and never know just who he was about to kiss. Or how much they really,_ really_, wanted him.

Eliot continued to gently work his fingers through his hair, not making any more type of moves. He just hummed lightly some tune that sounded awfully like the orchestral suit for Mina and Dracula. He should know, they watched it with Margo not too long ago. All of this was making him almost swoon. As it was, he was barely breathing, afraid of so many things.

Afraid Eliot would find him out if he so much as moved.

Afraid he would smell Eliot’s expensive cologne.

Afraid he would crack and maybe drag his friend into desperate kiss.

Afraid of letting walk out of this tiny room and away from him.

It is a very conflicting experience, to want somebody so badly but know that you can’t have them.

After a minute, Eliot very slowly inched his fingers down from his head. Those beautiful, hypnotic fingers started to carefully massage his neck and shoulders.

Quentin was weak for this shit. He could not be trusted to keep his head.

That’s when Quentin started to relax into his touch. His breathing slowed…and he tentatively wrapped his arm around El’s waist and rested his forehead on the other man’s shoulder. It was a surrender, he knew. It seemed he just sabotaged his own plan to make Eliot go away.

The massaging hands slowly stopped their ministrations only to gather Quentin in his arms and pull him closer. It was the sweetest trap.

Eliot used his brow to carefully push at Quentin’s temple to tilt his head to the side. Since Quentin was basically putty in his hands, he went and exposed the tendons in his neck. This seemed to be exactly what Eliot wanted, because he traced the tip of his nose from Q’s temple… to his cheek… to his neck… and back again.

Quentin was actually shaking in his arms. Even nameless in the hidden by shadows, he had never felt more moved, more **known**. More held. It was everything he always _craved, _but was afraid to ask for. Sex was one thing, but touch and intimacy were a whole other hunger. He knew how people looked down on needy people. Never in his craziest thoughts would he ever believe Eliot Waugh would touch him like this, like a whole body and soul caress. Like he was something precious. It was a heady feeling. He couldn’t help it, he squeezed his friend a little tighter and brushed a chaste kiss against his cheek.

Eliot groaned into his ear and pressed Quentin against the wall. He started laying soft kisses and mouthing a whisper of lips across his forehead, before moving them down his jaw and to his throat. Quentin tilted his head back, gasping quietly at the sensual onslaught. As Eliot proceeded to tenderly suckle at what was going to be an impressive hickey onto his neck, he slipped a leg between Quentin’s. His thigh gently pressed against his neglected, painfully hard cock. He bit his lip to keep the loud moan from escaping his throat.

Eliot moved from his neck to his ear. He spoke in a hushed, enchanting whisper. “My my, little wolf. What big ears you have.”

Instantly about seventy percent of the heady fog cleared. Was Eliot trying to be sexy by using lines from _Little Red Riding Hood_? Of all the ridiculous things!

_Please don’t tell me that’s how Eliot flirts in real life, because I don’t think I can ever look him in the eye again if he says he wants to huff puff and blow me down._

Quentin couldn’t help it. He was a brat by nature, and had no self-preservation skills. He pulled back huffily. “What the hell, El? Did you just-“

His eyes widened and his mouth slammed shut.

There went the mystery. There was no way that he wouldn’t figure out it was him.

_My my, what a** fucking** big mouth I have. God I’m such an idiot._

Would Eliot be disgusted?

Eliot pulled back just enough to cup his cheek and look…fondly at him?

“Ah ah ah. We’re in costume, you’re a wolf, and I’m seducing you.”

“I’m Max from _Where the Wild Things Are_!…Wait. Y-you are?”

Eliot leaned in closer and he could make out the raised eyebrow and the smirk. “My my, little… whatever the fuck you are, what dark eyes you have.”

Quentin…was a little lost. And shocked. Definitely shocked. His best friend _knew _he was flirting with him…and not pulling the breaks? Did he somehow step into the Twilight Zone?

Eliot cleared his throat. By the way he lifted his chin it almost seemed like he was, uhh, nervous? Was he nervous? Over Quentin?!

_Oh, right. I should probably say something instead of uhh standing here silently with my mouth hanging open._

Unfortunately, Quentin was not as smooth as Eliot when it came to flirting or one-liners.

“Oh! Uh-umm…the better to…look at you with?”

_Yes, Coldwater, that’s what you say the man you’re in love with in a dim closet. Bring up the lack of being able to see him clearly. Why do I even talk?_

Eliot seemed to relax and gain some boldness. He slinkily stepped forward and playfully, seductively, toyed with the zipper on Quentin’s onesie. “That depends. Do you like what you see?”

“Uhh, El, we’re in the dark. Not saying you don’t normally look good! Just, you know…I can’t really see you? In here?”

Eliot pulled the zipper down two clicks while chuckling his dark, silky laugh again. It was driving Quentin crazy. “I mean earlier, you dork, when you were adorably trying to hide from Margo and I and not get caught at the party. Like I wouldn’t know that pout from anywhere. You can’t hide from me.”

Eliot knew he was here all along? “Y-you know-“

“Who you are? Of course. Silly boy, why do you think I picked this closet?”

It was almost too good to be true. Knowing is luck though, Eliot would have mistaken him for some other guy. It would devastate him if that were true. He had to be sure.

“Okay. If you know who I am, say my name.”

“Ooo, kinky. Daddy likes.”

“Eliot, come on. Just…say it. For me. Please?”

“Oh alright, but just this once. Tonight’s Halloween, after all. There is costume etiquette to follow.”

The elegant man leaned in close to Quentin’s face, so close that they were breathing the same air. So close that they were just a hair’s breadth away from their lips touching. Eliot nuzzled Quentin’s nose. Quentin was shaking, feeling every vibrating molecule that kept them apart.

Eliot cradled the back of Quentin’s neck. As he talked, their lips brushed in would-be, sworn kisses.

“You are…Quentin..._Makepeace_…Coldwater…. Yes, I know your secret, _ridiculous_ middle name. I have my ways. And aside from your parents giving you a name guaranteed to get you beaten up on the playground, it is my absolute favorite name for one of my absolute favorite people. I. Know. You.”

With that he finally broached the gap. The kiss was intense. For all of his talk about etiquette, Eliot’s kiss was far from polite. It was just like the man, passionate, sensual, and _dirty _as fuck. As Quentin moaned and welcomed home the tantalizing tongue trying to slowly fuck his mouth, his toes curled. One of his hands slipped inside Eliot’s jacket, rubbing the muscles of his back trough his hot dress shirt. The other stroked at his jaw and chin. Eliot’s fingers combed through his hair and angled his face to make the kiss deeper. His other hand pressed at the small of his back, bringing them impossibly close together. After a minute or two of effetely ruining Quentin for kissing other men (and frankly any gender), the hand on the small of his back trailed down to his outer thigh. The one in his hair slipped away down is body, softly brushed his nipple through the fuzzy cloth, and mirrored his other hand on the opposite thigh. He gave both of them a squeeze.

“Jesus! Eliot!”

“No, Dracula tonight, baby. And, wow, what strong thighs you have.”

Quentin gathered his courage and decided to play along. If Eliot planned and chose to be in here with him, and wanted to kiss him like there was no tomorrow, then he could afford to be a little brave. So he shifted his feet to open his legs a little more, grabbed Eilot a little more securely, and slowly wrapped one around his hip. All the while keeping eye contact in this dark little room.

“All the better to-ah- wrap around you. My dear.”

Eliot sounded like someone punched him, before he moaned and hoisted him up with his other leg. Quentin was now off the ground and wrapped around him, in Eliot’s arms. Said man pressed him against the wall, before mouthing at his jaw and kissing him again almost frantically. Quentin realized that while he knew Eliot was strong, he was stronger than he realized. He nearly swooned with lust thinking about Eliot fucking him against the wall. He pulled back from the kiss to try and calm himself down a little. He knew he was very worked up and harder than he had ever been in his life. The fear of cumming in his pants like a teenager from making out session was real. Instead he took some deep breaths and lip his lip. But then he felt fingers gently freeing his lip, and then those fingers petting his face and hair.

“What big teeth you have, my little wild thing.”

This is where Quentin tripped up. He knew he should have said something sexy about biting Eliot instead of himself, or since Eliot was the vampire that night, invite him to bite him anywhere he wanted.

But he didn’t.

Feeling feverish and bright-eyed over his amazing, beautiful, sensual, sex god friend, Quentin leaned forward to chastely kiss Eliot’s lips. Unable to stop himself, the quote just slipped out. “I’ll eat you up, I love you so.”

Eliot froze.

Quentin froze.

“…what?”

He just kind of confessed to being in love with Eliot.

Shit.

“It-it’s a quote from the book. ‘I’ll eat you up, I love you so’. It’s from _Where the Wild Things Are_. I’m a wild thing. That’s, uh, umm…that’s what we say?”

Fuck, why was he making it worse?!

What he didn’t expect was Eliot for to sound awed and…holy shit, vulnerable?!

“…is it just a quote, Q?”

Fuck. This wasn’t making Eliot freak out or drop him to the ground. Did…could Eliot want him as much as he wanted Eliot?

Taking a chance, Quentin framed the taller, beautiful man’s face with trembling hands.

“Uhh, yeah El. I kind of meant that.”

Eliot, the bastard, huffed in his face! “How can you _kind of_ mean it? Do you love me or not, Coldwater?”

He could hear it in his undertone that he wasn’t actually exasperated. Eliot was teasing him, sure, like the usually do. But there was something more to it. It shocked Quentin when he realized it sounded like _hope_. Eliot was hoping he meant it.

_Well, in that case…_

He decided to tease right back. “Oh my God, you’re such an ass! I’m in love with an ass, Jesus Chri-“

That was when Eliot possessively yet tenderly gripped the back of his neck and passionately started to take Quentin apart.

If he thought the last kiss was the best he had ever had, it was nothing compared to this one. Quentin quickly learned that love confessions turn Eliot Waugh into some kind of lustful animal. On top of kissing Quentin like he could not get enough, could not get close enough, Eliot was slowly grinding against him and squeezing his ass. The little closet was like an inferno, but Quentin would gladly burn if it meant Eliot would never stop. When they broke for air, Eliot was true to his costume and dove back to the hicky he made before. Just below it he bit and sucked at Quentin’s neck, making he love bite larger, more pronounced.

Eliot was definitely leaving marks. Quentin felt like he was being claimed…and fucking loved it.

It was all too hot. He knew there was a good chance he was not going to survive this without cumming his brains out. Either that or spontaneously combust.

Just as he was going to beg Eliot to either fuck him then and there, or let him please get his cock in his mouth, Eliot carefully pulled away and put his feet back on the floor. He gave him a couple more soft kisses before pulling away. He placed his nimble hands on Q’s shoulders. Quentin whimpered at the loss of him.

Eliot shushed and pet him.

“I have wanted you since the first moment I saw you, Q. And I’ll be damned if we fuck or fall in love in a fucking closet.”

Quentin blinked.

Well, when he put it that way…

He pushed Eliot against the door and kissed him hard. Pulling back, he took Eliot’s hand and placed it on the mark he left on his neck.

“Then let’s get out of here, and you take me to your bed. Let everyone see I’m the lucky bastard that you chose.”

And that’s what Eliot did. He took Quentin’s other hand and led them both to the stairs.

If Quentin wasn’t so absorbed with latching onto Eliot’s mouth like he held all the air in the world, he might have seen Margo wink at Eliot as they passed.

* * *

Comments and Kudos = Love!


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